


A Glimpse of Light

by Potato_Huntress



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Arranged Marriage, Blood and Injury, Character Death, F/F, Post-Time Skip, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-20
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-18 15:20:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28869180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Potato_Huntress/pseuds/Potato_Huntress
Summary: Days away from battle with only one week to live her life freely, Ingrid must make the hardest decision of her life: to serve as a daughter of Galatea, or follow her heart and challenge all her convictions.Her last week of freedom may turn out to be the most arduous of her life.
Relationships: Annette Fantine Dominic & Felix Hugo Fraldarius, Annette Fantine Dominic/Felix Hugo Fraldarius, Dorothea Arnault & Ingrid Brandl Galatea, Dorothea Arnault/Ingrid Brandl Galatea
Comments: 6
Kudos: 28





	1. Chapter 1

“Truly, I’m alright leaving at dawn with the rest of the battalion, Mercedes.” Ingrid shook her head in protest against the healer. “I’ve remained here in the infirmary for a week as recommended, my shoulder feels as good as new. You needn’t worry so much.” 

With a soft frown, Mercedes rested her cheek in her hand. Having known Mercedes for so long, finding any sort of injury or tell on Ingrid came easily to her. While it was definitely helpful at times, this was not one of those times as she tried her hardest to push down the throbbing pain that she insisted was gone. Any shift in eye movement, trembling hand, even a stuttered word would give her a reason to keep her here for another week. She would not allow that to happen. In one week everything could change, and it wasn’t even the battle that was her main concern. That ship sailed the moment she responded to her father’s letter.

“While that may be true, I worry about the muscle damage. You really should stay a little while longer. The Professor and Dimitri should have the frontlines covered.” Mercedes argued passively. It seemed Mercedes was determined to keep her away from the battle, injury or no. Luckily for Ingrid, she was visibly well and the healers had no cause to keep her in the infirmary.

“I know that you’re worried about our ranks being deployed at Gronder Field, but I’m confident we’ll be victorious.” Ingrid placed a hand on Mercedes’ shoulder, a reassuring smile on her face. “Besides, you’re going, as well as Annette, Felix, Sylvain, and Dedue. I’d sooner die than see you all fighting the war without me at your side.” She furrowed her brow with a heavy sigh. She was tired of laying down. Being mollycoddled was not something Ingrid enjoyed, and without hesitation, she threw back the covers from her body and quickly stood before Mercedes could have a chance at stopping her.

“Ingrid, I’m going because they requested my presence as a healer. I don’t enjoy fighting, and returning to Gronder Field is not going to be a picnic. It will be bloodier this time than before; all sides are genuinely trying to kill each other.” She replied in a firm tone.

Of course, Ingrid knew that. It was basic information. But apparently, Mercedes felt the need to emphasise how frightening this next fight was going to be. 

“If you truly do insist on going, please don’t fly outside of my Physic’s range, just in case,” Mercedes added. 

Ingrid nodded her response, the reassuring smile still on her face.

With a heavy breath, it seemed Mercedes knew she had been defeated. She retrieved the blonde patient’s clothing and armour, handing it off to her in a neatly folded pile. “If you do intend to leave, at least change out of the infirmary gown first. The back is wide open!” The cleric giggled with a soft shake to her shoulders. 

“O-oh! Right!” She had nearly forgotten that her back end was exposed, bringing a soft dusting of pink to her cheeks as she accepted her clothes and scurried off behind the folding screen, attempting to hold the fabric of the gown closed over her rear as she moved. 

Pulling the gown off was easy enough, it was really a matter of being capable of putting on her underclothes and armour correctly without any audible gasps of pain from her shoulder. Before dressing, she took the opportunity to rest a hand over the freshly sealed wound, enjoying the momentary relief it brought. It would be another scar to add to the collection, another badge of honour in service to her Kingdom.

When Ingrid stepped out, she brushed any lint off of her person and moved to examine herself in the mirror, hopeful that she managed to put everything on right. As she viewed herself, Mercedes came up behind her, adjusting her short cape in the back and smoothing out the fabric at her sides - fussing over her as usual. Through the reflection Ingrid could see Mercedes wearing an expression of absolute worry, not hiding it in the least. But there was nothing she could say that might convince Ingrid that staying was the best option. Her mind was made up. She would be fighting in the coming battle whether Mercedes wanted her to or not. 

“Ingrid, I’m terribly worried about you. You have a nasty habit of flying too close to the sun, if you understand my meaning.” She spoke plainly while tightening Ingrid’s left shoulder bracer. “I’m afraid that you might do something brash — Gronder is far from here, and I will only have a field aid kit.”

Her words weren’t falling on deaf ears, but the young knight had heard enough. 

“I know. You have to remember that the spear hit my shoulder from behind. I was hardly doing anything reckless. Please.” She turned on her heel to face her friend, grasping one of her hands gingerly. “Trust that I will be okay, Mercedes. You have my word that I’ll be as careful as I possibly can,” she said kindly, taking her hand back and picking up her boots. Walking back over to the bed, Ingrid sat at the foot and slipped on each one with ease.

“Ingrid, I know that you’ll be as careful as you can, but I—“ 

Before the healer could finish her thought, a soft creak echoed throughout the room. The door stood slightly ajar and a young, lithe woman with pumpkin coloured tresses stepped in carrying a small bouquet of assorted flowers. Annette.

“Oh! Ingrid, what are you doing out of bed? Here, I’ll help you get her back under the sheets, Mercie.” Annette rolled her eyes and placed the flowers down on the nearest table in her haste. 

“You’re not helping me back under any sheets, Annette! I have a clean bill of health.” Ingrid argued, causing Annette to glance between her and Mercedes to confirm that what she said was indeed the case.

“Are you sure that your concussion has healed? I think you should get back to bed…” Annie rested a hand against her friend’s forehead, attempting to force her compliance in the gentlest way possible. 

“Oh, you know what? We should double check that before you leave, Ingrid. Thank you for the idea, Annie.” Mercedes grinned impishly with a wink at her old friend. She could always rely on her in a pinch. 

With a look of utter disbelief, Ingrid released a heavy, frustrated breath out of her nose. This was worse than the time they plied her with wine and managed to paint her face and style her hair. She considered herself a dedicated and refined Knight of Faerghus, not some stately maiden in need of a makeover. This was war, and though she knew her friends meant well, she did not need to be coddled as if she were even remotely fragile.

“No! I’m fine, you don’t need to check again! It was a minor one to begin with. Annette, stop teasing, and let me leave.” In an attempt to halt Annie’s advances, she gripped her wrist and took a nimble step back, only to feel Mercedes grab her arms from behind and clutch her in a tight hold.

Mercedes was stronger than she looked. Ingrid struggled fruitlessly until the back of her legs hit the mattress and she found herself sitting back upon the bed. Mercedes checked her eye dilation before moving on to examine her injury again. Ingrid sighed, but allowed it. She knew she was not concussed and, at the least, this would reassure them both that she was in perfect form. 

“You would rather I let you leave with a possible concussion? That’s reckless!” Mercedes scolded, the knit in her brow returning. 

“Yeah, it’s not safe to let you go if you’re not healthy,” Annette chimed in with a soft smile.

“Okay, but Mercedes said I was fine before you walked in,” Ingrid began, trying not to lose her patience with them. “Is there something you two are hiding from me? Something I should know about?” Raising the question with furrowed brows, she leant forward staring into Annette’s eyes as if reading between the lines of her favourite book. 

If they were hiding something, she would surely be able to get Annette to spill - she was always the first to crack - and the best option for Ingrid was to simply stare her down. As she watched Annie’s eyes, she realised very quickly that they were shifting between looking nervously at Mercedes and back to her. She was trying to come up with something. But what? 

“Er… Oh! There’s this new makeup pallet I bought! It has such a wide variety of colours! I think a few of them would match your skin tone! Oh! I should go get it and we’ll do each other’s makeup right here in the infirmary.” Ingrid knew Annie was shrewd when she wanted to be, and perhaps many would have fallen for that explanation. But not Ingrid. The subtle rattle and quick pace to her words gave Annie away immediately - including the pleased smile pulling at the side of her lip. 

“No. We are not doing any of that. This is ridiculous. I’m leaving. I have training to do and several chores to get done before leaving in the morning. Either tell me what you two are hiding, or let me go without any trouble. The teasing ends now.” Ingrid sat up forcibly enough to prevent either of them from keeping her down. Getting to her feet, she stared the two women down, crossing her arms as she watched them both pale. 

“Ingrid, I,” Annette started, only to have Mercedes rest a hand on her shoulder with a soft shake of her head.

“You’re free to go.” Mercedes’ soft voice responded for both of them with a soft nod of her head. 

With a harsh eye roll, Ingrid dropped her arms and turned on her heel to march out. She wasn’t going to stick around and investigate. She didn’t have time for their baseless fears, or whatever gossip they had heard along the grapevine. There were chores to do, and her pegasus needed to be prepared. To make a point, she released the heavy door and allowed it to slam behind her. Hopefully next time her friends would spit it out rather than dance around whatever issue they had hidden behind sealed lips.  
-

“Mercie, she’s going to find out sooner or later, why can’t we tell her now?” Annette said after a moment of silence. Mercedes looked back to Annette, noting her brows furrowed in worry. But the sparkle to her eyes never dulled - always the same Annie, no matter how dire the situation. 

“It’s better she doesn’t know. If we’re lucky, she won’t meet Dorothea in battle. Pray to the Goddess that will be the case.” She replied reverently, already busying herself by changing the sheets. Cleaning always had that wonderful effect of calming her nerves. Cathartic, in a way.

From the tone of Annie’s voice, it was apparent that she was pouting - that’s her Annie, quick to be so emotionally driven. “Mercie, how can you be so calm about this?” she began, her frustrated words becoming a bit harder to hear as she moved across the infirmary to retrieve clean sheets for Mercedes. “Ingrid proposed to her the day before the attack on Garreg Mach and she’s acting like nothing happened!”

“According to Ingrid it wasn’t a proposal, it was a gift,” Mercedes cut in. “You’re making mountains out of molehills, Annie. Dorothea was gracious enough to help Ingrid with that deplorable merchant. If Ingrid insists that there’s nothing between them, then there isn’t.” Her tone was a bit ruffled, not wanting to discuss the topic at the moment.

Although she cared deeply for Ingrid, her personal affairs were none of their business. She had spoken with Ingrid before about marriage and proposals, and she was not surprised that Ingrid would behave in such a way. She had more on her shoulders than any other noble she knew. Adding to Ingrid’s worries was something she couldn't bring herself to do. 

“We don’t know if that’s the case because she won’t talk about it! Ingrid keeps more secrets than a safe, and she’s not exactly forthcoming with information on her personal feelings,” Annie grumbled softly, handing the fitted sheet over to her friend.

“And that’s her decision. If she ever does want to talk about it, all we can do is reassure her that we’re here to listen.” 

“Here to listen, my booty! I’m going to drag it out of her myself if I have to.”


	2. Chapter 2

Crack! Thwack! Each heavy blow that Ingrid delivered to her target reverberated throughout the training facility. The searing pain in her shoulder weakened her swing somewhat, but she was relieved to have left the infirmary when she did. Mercedes and Annette had been especially aggravating for some reason, and while it left her curious as to why, she didn’t have time to investigate. At that thought she lunged forward for another assault, only stopping when her breaths became haggard and the training dummy looked ready to fall from its perch. 

She wiped the sweat from her brow, still panting, moving to sit down on one of the benches surrounding the arena. She turned on her heel only to be scared out of her skin by Annette who, from what she could gather, had reached a hand out to tap her on the shoulder.

“Goddess above, Annie! Between you and Mercedes watching me train without my knowledge, I’m going to die of fright one of these days!” Ingrid gasped. Her hand moved to her shoulder out of habit to rub it, only then realising that Annie would likely use that against her and send her right back to the infirmary. “Er, anyway. Is there something I can help you with? Or are you just here to watch?”

Watching Annette’s eyes shift slightly to look at her shoulder, Ingrid crossed her arms, waiting with bated breath for her explanation..

“I just wanted to ask you something, is that a crime?” Annette replied with a soft smile.

“No, it isn’t a crime, but I am afraid of what you are about to ask considering your rather cryptic behaviour at the infirmary. Out with it.” Ingrid huffed.

“It’s nothing to get your trousers in a twist over! I, well, Mercie and I were wondering,” She began, her fingers twiddling in front of her. “Do you have feelings for Dorothea?” Annie asked.

At the mention of that name Ingrid’s mouth fell open, swamped by distant memories; beautiful green eyes gazing back as they giggled together in the dining hall, each dip and curve of Dorothea’s body when she danced for the crowds, her silken chestnut air caught in a breeze. Each image and recollection carried with it familiar scents and emotions that she had all but nearly forgotten.

Of all the questions to be asked, it had to be this one? Mercedes and Annette should both know by now that the ring she gave Dorothea five years prior was nothing more than a thank you gift for her assistance. The way they pestered her at every turn after it occurred to begin with, coupled with being asked at least once or twice every few months for the first two years of the war. It was amusing at first, then it grew to be an absolute annoyance.

Ingrid pointedly glared at Annette before racking her lance and heading straight for the door. She would have headed out without a glance back, but Annette gripped her shoulder with enough force that a bolt of pain crashed through her. Holding back a yelp she grabbed the hand by reflex and shoved it off, gritting her teeth as her friend barked a triumphant laugh.

“Heh. I knew you weren’t better. Now, you can either talk to me about this, or I tell Mercedes and you’re back under watch for another week.” she said smugly. The look that displayed in Annie’s blue pools was one of victory. Even if it was a cheap shot due to her gripping Ingrid’s shoulder. 

“Alright, alright. Can we at least sit and I can ice it? I’ll tell you what you want to know, just don’t tell Mercedes. It was a miracle I got out of there without her picking up on the pain,” she groaned in frustration. 

Allowing Annette to follow her over to the bench, Ingrid sat with a sigh of relief. As she reached for a cloth with ice in it, she was shocked to have Annie be one step ahead of her and already having one prepared. 

“Let’s get your bracer off, the cold won’t do any good if it’s not directly on it,” she muttered, untying the piece of armour rather quickly, and Ingrid gasped with contentment when Annie carefully pressed the soothing cloth against her wound.

“Your question is one that I am tired of being asked. Between Sylvain teasing me over it and Catherine taking jabs, I am not going to skirt around it any longer.” Her giving in was something that did not come easily, but she was exhausted. Her excuses were exhausted. “The truth is, I do love Dorothea.”

As she admitted this, Annette’s face went from one of concern to a look of delight. As if she were a child in a sweet shop. “Oh, I knew it! Why would you lie about it though? You realise you have been lying about your feelings for five years? You had better have a good explanation!” Annie chided.

Ingrid bristled at the audacious presumption.

“Not everyone has the luxury of choosing who they want to be with, Annette. I’ve known that since I was a child.” She jabbed. “From the moment I first saw her in combat, she had my heart. Her grace, her curls, the lilting laugh she gives, and her mesmerising gaze…” 

Having forced her feelings away, she had all but trained herself to forget and not think about her. Ingrid found herself rambling on about the songstress, and upon glancing over at Annie, she realised she had become very distracted from her original question. 

“Hey, I understand that your House is in danger of going under, I’m not stupid.” Annette frowned. “And I know you lost Glenn. But the way you talk about Dorothea is how a person should talk about their true love!”

True love? No, none of that existed to Ingrid. Not now. Not anymore. That ship sailed the moment she responded to her father’s letter.

“Annette, can’t you see? I can’t. I can’t be in love with Dorothea, not when I’ve already promised to marry.” Ingrid snapped,though her expression softened when her hand fell to her pocket. Slipping her hand inside, she managed to produce an elegant looking ring. Strange, it felt heavier on her palm than it did before.

With a saddened look in her eyes, she turned her head to find Annie with her mouth agape and eyes wide. 

“Ingrid Brandl Galatea! When were you going to tell anyone? Tell me? Mercedes? Does anyone know?!” Annette stood abruptly, the rag of ice falling from her shoulder and onto the dirt. 

Knitting her brows together in shame, Ingrid closed her eyes and shook her head. “No one knows. I thought it would be better that way-”

“Better? No!” Fists bawled and leaning forward, Annette was fuming at this point and Ingrid saw no way of calming her down until she had released every ounce of her frustration. “This is huge! I can’t believe you would hide something like this from me! From everyone! What about your dream of being a knight? What will come of that? You’re ready to give that up so readily to marry a stranger? All to save your House?” 

Allowing her to rant, Ingrid admired in awe how an adult woman was capable of throwing a tantrum of this caliber. As she waited for her to cease her ranting, she leaned forward with a heavy sigh, finally finding a break in the woman’s speech.

“Are you finished?” she asked, “Because if you are, I will answer every question you just asked if you will allow me.” Clasping her hands together, she took in a deep breath through her nose and out her mouth. “I hid it because I knew how everyone would react to such news -- and your reaction just now confirmed it.” She looked up to Annie’s blue eyes, a hand patting the spot beside her. “I had to choose between my dream and my House. I owe my father so much. I owe the people of Galatea a chance at better lives than the ones they know now; lives stricken with poverty, starvation, and illness. If I can help them by accepting a weighty dowry and a marriage proposal, I will. Even at the cost of my own desires.”

Annette didn’t seem to have any words. She was silent with a stone-cold expression. After a long moment, she finally seemed to have found the words to retort. “I can’t believe for even a second that this decision is even remotely something you want. Ingrid, be rational about this. You don’t honestly believe that this nobleman could possibly love you? You have yet to meet him! What if he’s--”

“What if he’s after my Crest? He likely is. Most proposals I receive are noblemen looking to raise their status by adding a Crest to their bloodline. But Annette, I need you to understand that this decision didn’t come easily. I know that it’s a lot to ask, but what I need right now is not your criticism, but your support.” Ingrid rested a hand on her knee, giving a soft but unreal smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. 

“Ingrid. You know that I will support you no matter what you choose, but I still need you to be honest about Dorothea.” Annie sighed with a look of longing. “You love her. Why can’t you love Dorothea, be a knight, and save your House? There has to be another way. I can’t imagine you not having thought of any other ways.” 

While she had indeed thought of other ways to try and fix her territory, she shook her head in response to her question. Sometimes she wondered how Annette moved through life with such a naive way of thinking.

“Annette, of course I have thought of other ways, but this is the only way to ensure that the House will be able to survive until the first few crops become ready to harvest.” Ingrid responded in a hollow tone. She felt as though she were going in circles with Annie at this point. There was no other way around it. She needed to marry this nobleman. Even if the way his family built their fortune was a little less than honourable. 

“This is awful. I just want you to be happy, but I know you aren’t. Anyone can see it. You aren’t happy. Just write your father back and tell him to call it off. That you changed your mind. It’s simple!” She gripped her hand, bringing it to her flushed cheek. “At least give it more time? Getting married in the middle of a war is insane. How soon is it? A month? Two months?”

Gnawing at her lower lip again, Ingrid returned her gaze down to her boots, scuffing them against the dirt. Annette was going to have an aneurysm at this point. 

“A week.”

“I’m sorry, did you just say a week?” Annette responded, flying up from her seat before pacing back and forth in agitation. After a few moments and some deep breaths, she came to a halt in front of Ingrid. “How. Long. Have. You. Been. Engaged?” She snapped, making it apparent at how hard she was biting her tongue.

Ingrid swallowed hard. Nerves frayed and anger bubbling, she had finally had enough.  
“I’ve been engaged for a year, Annette. And no, before you ask I am not with child, I am not concussed - I am of sound mind! He and I have been writing to each other since I accepted, and I believe I can live a life of comfort with him. So you may go and tell Mercedes that I’m injured and return me to the infirmary for my last week of freedom, or you can let me go and do what I love doing! Goddess knows I won’t have the chance again after this week!”

Having jumped to her feet amidst her own rant, Ingrid grabbed her bracer and began to storm out towards the door, feeling several sets of eyes on her aside from Annie’s. So many witnessed her display and yet she felt no guilt whatsoever. That is, until she heard Annette beginning to sob.

Freezing with her hand against the heavy wood of the door, she turned back to find Annie on the ground, her face in her hands with a handkerchief dabbing at her eyes. 

With a heavy sigh, Ingrid found herself returning to her friend’s side, extending a hand out to help her up out of the dirt. Had she known losing her temper like that would cause this, she would have held her tongue. 

“I’m sorry for yelling at you. I just want everything to remain the way it is -- the way it was.” 

As Annette stood before her, Ingrid brushed a gauntleted hand through her hair with a depressed sigh.

“You can say that you will be happy, but lying to yourself is not a healthy way to live, Ingrid.” She spoke. Her next few words seemed to be stuck in her throat, and Ingrid soon learned why through strained vocal chords, she pulled Ingrid into a hug, finishing her thought before walking away. 

“Dorothea is going to be present at Gronder.”


	3. Chapter 3

Pacing across the Blue Lions rug in her quarters, Annie’s confession repeated relentlessly in her mind. So that was what she and Mercedes were attempting to protect her from. They were concerned with how she might react to discovering Dorothea opposite her on the battlefield. They were correct, in a way, no matter how hard she tried she could not drift off to sleep. Every time she closed her eyes, she was faced with images and memories of Dorothea. 

Slipping her boots on, Ingrid decided to leave her room and find her way to the dining hall. If she couldn’t sleep, she may as well find something to eat. 

-

Upon entering the dining hall, Ingrid found she was not alone. The red hair sitting alone at one of the long, dark tables beneath the moonlit window was not Annette, but Sylvain. 

Great. 

About to turn on her heel and leave, his voice echoed through the hall and halted her escape. He was a lot more vigilant than she expected - probably the lack of skirt to chase.

“Ingrid. Don’t go on my account. I found some leftovers from dinner, why don’t you grab a fork and join me. I know you skipped it tonight because there were leftovers,” he teased.

With a deep breath, she nodded silently and retrieved a fork from the counter. 

“How did you know it was me? I didn’t say anything.” She questioned. As she walked back, she flicked the back of his head before sitting across from him.

“Ouch! Hurtful. It had to be you. I’d recognise your footfalls anywhere, you don’t have the lightest step when you’re upset.” Sylvain mused with a slow wink. 

He pushed the plate toward her with a genuine smile. 

“I wouldn’t have been angry so often if you could have kept your hands to yourself. The time that you spent skirt chasing, you could have been training or studying. Did you enjoy getting into trouble?” she jabbed playfully, shaking her head at her own musing. 

Digging her fork into the plate of food, she eyed her childhood friend who seemed to be ready to say something. 

“Or maybe I just liked getting your attention,” he replied. Reclining back in his chair, he crossed his hands behind his head as usual. But that was not what caused Ingrid to choke on the sliver of potato in her mouth. 

With several hacking coughs, she managed to clear her airway and focus her attention back on what he had just said. He had to be joking. He hit on her granny when they were children! He had no self control, and now he was teasing her again.

“Sylvain, you can’t be serious. What are you saying? That you enjoyed my lecturing you?” 

“Well, no, I could have gone without all the lectures,” he replied, scratching at his chin thoughtfully. “I enjoyed having you to myself. You realise that was the only way I could get your attention? You were always so focused on training, studying, or reading -- hell, even food had your attention more often than I did.” 

He chuckled, but Ingrid found it hard to see the funny side. She hadn’t thought him serious for a moment, but that was until her eyes followed the moonlight cast upon his expression. He wasn’t teasing. Not this time.

Setting her fork down, she pushed the plate away, keeping her gaze fixed upon him. “You have my full attention, along with one question: Annette told you, didn’t she?” Ingrid said solemnly. The lack of surprise confirmed it before he could speak. “Dammit, I should have known she would tell people--”

“Ingrid, listen. I know I act like an absolute arse at times, but when Annette told me you’re going to marry a total stranger in a week, I couldn’t let you do it without telling you how I feel.” Sylvain’s voice wasn’t its usual smooth, velvety timbre. Rather, it was concerned and nervous. “You drive me to drink. You’re straight-laced, responsible, hardworking, loyal, and stubborn as a bull! But those are all reasons why I love you.” 

Sylvain paused, leaving his confession to hang in the air for a few moments. “I know you’re in love with someone else, but if your House is always going to come first, will you at least consider me as an option?” He spoke carefully, no longer leaning back in his usual casual manner. He had both elbows on the table, leaning in toward her, a serious expression playing on his face. “Don’t marry a stranger just to save Galatea, Ingrid. It would be the biggest mistake you could ever make -- trust me, I’ve made plenty of my own to know.” 

Clenching her fists beneath the table, she was ready to storm back to her room. So many people were trying to tell her what was right for her and her territory, and none of them had any right to do so. 

“Sylvain, if this is you teasing, and Annette is somewhere in this dining hall, this fork will have a new home in your hand.” She grunted with a heavy breath.

“Everything I just said is the truth, Ing. If you’re marrying him for the money, House Gautier would be more than capable of supplying the same promise. And maybe, just maybe, you might learn to tolerate me,” he replied. “I care about you too much to let you make a mistake like this, and so does Annette. Felix is pretending that he doesn’t care, but it was obvious when Annie mentioned it that he was irked.” 

Felix knows as well? How many people did that minx tell? Even though her friends were only a week away from finding out, it still bothered Ingrid greatly. And Sylvain’s confession was throwing her for a loop. With it now plain how serious he was, it brought a soft dusting of pink to her cheeks. His willingness to do something selfless for her after years of her incessant nagging was a shock, and it touched her deeply. 

“I refuse to trap you in a loveless marriage, spending our lives together bickering. All we would do is argue.” Ingrid knitted her brows together in seriousness. “In any case, the preparations have already been finalised. My father spared no expense on the ceremony and reception. As much as I tried to keep costs down, he and my betrothed’s father insisted it be the largest celebration in Galatea. According to the letters, the only things I had any say in were the flavour of cake, table centre pieces, flower arrangements, and my dress.” Not having said any of this aloud until now, Ingrid realised how little control she had in this situation, and how trapped she was. “Had I not chosen to wear my grandmother’s dress, I would have needed to leave a month ago in order to give time for shopping and alterations. Alistair-- my fiance --wanted me home last week, but I managed to hurt myself by some miracle.” She attempted to stifle a laugh, but it was fairly obvious that she was pleased about having injured herself. It delayed her from losing all freedom before she was ready and an opportunity to fight in one last battle.

Extending a hand across the table toward his arm, she gripped it gently. “Sylvain,” Ingrid began, gnawing at her lower lip before she continued. “You’re one of my oldest and dearest friends. I had no idea you felt this way after all this time. It’s sweet of you to come forward and offer such a thing... But I can’t accept.” With a downtrodden look, she released his arm and rested her hand upon the table. “You deserve to be with someone who will love you unconditionally--” 

“You do too, Ingrid! Damnit, you’re so stubborn! I’m telling you that I love you, and you’re unwilling to listen!” He interrupted, the dishes rattling along with his harsh tone as he smacked a hand upon the table. “How can you be willing to marry him, and claim that you’ll learn to love him when he likely doesn’t even care for you in the first place? Use your mind, Ingrid! All he wants is your Crest and title!” 

It was rare to see someone as relaxed as Sylvain so frustrated. The way his eyes burned into hers in the limited light of the room was painful. His tone was a combination of irritation and pain, and it carried a point. To him, it probably seemed like she would rather be with a complete stranger than a man she had known her whole life. A friend who was there for her during her struggle when Glenn was lost to the Tragedy of Duscur. They had history. But she couldn’t bring herself to taint the friendship that they shared.

“He may want me for my Crest, but what else is new? You understand how that is. It’s the hand we were dealt, and there’s no way we can change it,” she replied calmly. “Listen, I can’t accept, because I cherish our friendship far too much to subject either of us to what may happen should I not develop the same affection for you. I don’t want us to grow to resent each other. It’s better if we don’t.”

Sylvain remained silent.

With a soft shake of her head she stood from her chair and moved to leave.“It’s best if we never speak of this again.”

Before she could escape his hand gripped hers, gently tugging it to pull her back. 

“Ingrid,” he whispered, “don’t go.” He stood from his chair and placed her hand against his chest. Pulling her in carefully, he rested a hand at the small of her back and kissed her forehead. “At least take a dinner roll before you go. You hardly ate anything,” he said, forcing a soft, ingenuine laugh. 

He reached behind his back and gripped a roll from off of the plate and held it out for her to take. 

“Thanks,” Ingrid said. Her heart sank when he kissed her forehead, and his handing her a dinner roll only made it worse. “Go to bed soon, alright? We’re leaving early in the morning for Gronder.”

“I’ll go to bed soon. I’m going to stay here for a little while,” he replied. Taking a step back, he turned away from her slowly, and leaned against the chair. 

Nodding once, she left the dining hall, the bread in her hand feeling like a weight. She would never forget the look in his eyes, knowing it would haunt her for the rest of the evening.

The walk back to her quarters was filled with unease. Ingrid feared that one of her friends would appear to either lecture her or admit something at any moment. Between her argument with Annette and Sylvain proposing, much to Ingrid’s chagrin she somehow managed to inflict pain on two of her dearest friends within a twelve hour period. She would favour an arrow piercing her back than the anguish she felt in her heart. In fact, she would take several if it meant she could forget this ache for a short time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is all for now! It will be updated soon! <3


	4. Chapter 4

Everything from the previous day had been a stressful blur. From the minute Ingrid returned to her quarters she knew that sleep would be slow to overtake her. But when it did, she was met with dreams replaying every horrible event from the day before.

Having so much on her mind, she only managed a few short hours of precious sleep before the first few rays of light peeked through her window. She could hardly look at herself in the mirror. The dark and heavy bags beneath her eyes enough to shy her gaze away. Ingrid managed to get out of bed and dress herself. Every portion of her armour felt heavier than it usually did, like another burden upon her heavy shoulders. Perhaps it was the looming knowledge that she would likely never wear it again after this battle. A short, quick spark of pain shot down her arm as she pushed her shoulder bracer up her arms and over her healing wound.  
Having one last look in the mirror, she released a heavy breath and left her room, knowing she would likely never return to it again. 

-

“All I’m saying is: would it have killed them to pack at least a few extra sandwiches?” Sylvain said with a disappointed look as he opened his rations.

“I can assure you that the amount packed is sufficient for our needs,” His Highness replied with a shake of his head. “Honestly, there are some of us with genuine problems that do not involve sandwiches,” Dimitri said. 

The last portion was obviously directed at her, sending a chill down her spine and inciting a soft burning sensation on the tip of her tongue. Ingrid had no way to respond. In fact, this was the quietest she had ever been during travel. 

“The boar has a point. We can’t ignore the elephant in the room any longer, can we?” Felix replied coldly. “It’s best to get this nonsense resolved now before Annette begins weeping again.” He grunted with a piercing glare in Ingrid’s direction. 

Had Annie really been weeping over this? If anyone should be weeping, it should be herself.

“Felix, don’t start anything, please? I said those things to you in confidence!” Annie replied, pleading. Her voice was strained, preparing for more tears if Ingrid had to venture a guess.

“Annie, let’s fall back a bit. We don’t need to hear what he’s about to say…” The gentle mothering tone of Mercedes carried over the sounds of a sniffling Annette, which fell into the background noise of the army as Mercedes slowed their pace

With a guilt riddled look back at Mercedes and Annette, Ingrid’s eyebrows knitted together, wondering exactly what Felix was going to say. Obviously he had said something about it before this to Mercedes and Annie if they were trying to avoid it. Taking in a breath of courage, she looked down from atop her pegasus at her childhood friend.

“Felix, I know what you’re about to say-”

“- No you don’t. You think you do, but you don’t,” he snapped.

“Felix, let’s not do this now, we can talk about this later,” she replied with a pointed stare.. 

She was trying to keep her cool. Ingrid was far too tired to endure a lecture, especially from Felix of all people.

“Later? And when is that? When you’re exchanging hollow, meaningless vows at an altar in front of people you don’t know? When you’re swapping saliva with one of the worst men Fhirdiad has to offer? Do you know what his family did to obtain their title? What his family does on a daily basis to keep their coffers lined?” He harshly pointed behind him either in direction of Sylvain or Annie, Ingrid couldn’t tell which. 

“His family is responsible for slave trade ships in the Almyran sea. Cleverly disguising them as trade vessels. When Sylvain mentioned to me this morning over breakfast the name of your betrothed, I nearly choked on my meal.” 

With an intense glare, Ingrid gritted her teeth, trying not to respond to his harsh comments, only to lose that battle when he brought such an outlandish story to the table. She knew that the way Alistair’s family came into their fortune was less than noble, but this was too outrageous to be considered legitimate.

“You don’t know that for certain! Spreading such rumours without evidence is low even for you. Since when do you care about what I do? If I remember correctly, you wanted nothing more than for me to find a husband, and I have. Now you’re unhappy. I didn’t realise my decision in a spouse had to go through you first, Felix.” Her brow furrowed in disgust at his audacity.

“Finding a decent husband and marrying an arsebag are two different things, you stubborn mule! Deep down you know I’m right.” He crossed his arms with a look of contempt, as if she were the one hoisting the flags of the slave ships.

“Felix, this is going too far. It’s best to drop it for now,” Sylvain said nervously, riding up beside him. “We don’t need to talk about this before we go out to risk our necks.” He rested a hand on Felix’s shoulder, only to have it shrugged off.

“Quiet! I’m not finished.” He glowered. “You’re ready to allow her to leave everything behind? Her dream of becoming a knight? No. I won’t let her. Not even your — I’m assuming sappy —confession of love was able to sway her. I need to hit her where it hurts.” Those words shut Sylvain’s mouth and, defeated, Ingrid watched as he withdrew to march beside Annette and Mercedes. 

He won’t let her? Now he was meddling in things she didn’t want him to be. What did he know of her dreams? If anything, he tried to quash them years ago. 

“Felix, I’m not sure what to tell you. I need to do this, it’s the only way to— “ 

“Destroy your life beyond repair? Be the most miserable Countess in Faerghus? You would be giving up on your dream of becoming a knight because you’re not good enough!” Felix shouted with a pointed finger in her direction. 

“You said once that Glenn died following his heart. That he was a chivalrous knight and you would do anything to be his equal! Do you think he would want you to follow your heart into your own personal hell? A loveless marriage? Trapped to never wield a lance again?” 

His words stung. Every last one of them. And with each one, she felt her face becoming hot. How dare he speak of Glenn in such a way? How dare he even mention him at a time like this? To Ingrid, Glenn was and always would have been her first choice. To smear his name and ideals in her face was cruel, and she wasn’t going to stand by and allow him to do so.

“How dare you speak about him like this! You’re using the man I loved— your brother —to try and sway my mind on the decision I’ve made! You know that if I could, I would give anything to have Glenn back!” she shouted “No one understands the pressure I’m under! This weight that I’ve been burdened with from the time I was a child! Being the sole heir to House Galatea with the ability to bring it out of famine, I never had a choice!” 

As she yelled, his expression remained unflinching and cold. It wasn’t until she had finished did his expression waver, and even then, he simply shook his head with a soft tsk, and continued. 

“Do you remember that garbage you were reading before? And the ridiculous question you posed to me about following orders or doing as your heart directs?” he questioned firmly. “Ingrid. I’m going to pose this to you: are you following orders or your heart? Answer the damn question.”

“It’s not garbage! And the question wasn’t ridiculous! It—” Once his question hung in the air, she knew that she couldn’t answer it honestly. Not without facing the truth. She needed to be honest about everything that was occurring. Everything that set her marriage into motion. 

“Felix, you know how bad off Galatea is. It was Glenn’s marriage to me that would have saved my House,” she said, a light quiver in her voice. “When he died, it made the terms between your father and mine null and otherwise void,” Ingrid replied simply, her brows creasing as she awaited his counter.

“Ingrid, you’re behaving foolishly. Don’t try to justify your actions based on the wants of others. Your father has been desperate since the famine overtook your territory, and all you are to him is a solution to the problem.” He crossed his arms tightly, glaring up at her. 

“Think for yourself for once. You aren’t a puppet. As much as I despise admitting it, you’re the very embodiment of what a knight should be— and you know how I feel about knighthood.” Felix grimaced, the way his face contorted was an obvious one of disgust. She wouldn’t have been surprised if he was sick in a moment after saying so. “And I know that Glenn would be proud of you. But he would also want you to do what’s right for you and your future. Think about that before you leave back to Galatea and make the worst mistake of your life.”

Closing her tired, jade eyes, she pressed her thumb and index finger against her septum, taking in several deep, shaky breaths. Her exhausted, irritated response breaking the short silence that followed Felix’s statement.

“You are being naive, Felix. This isn’t about me anymore. It is about my family, my house, and the people who live on our land. Mistake or not, I made this decision. I am marrying him, and whether I see you again after this is up to you.” Ingrid spat through her teeth. After saying what she did, she snapped the reins on her pegasus in command to trot forward away from him before he could say anything else in response. 

When she was far enough away, she tilted her head back and looked up at the sky, swallowing hard. She was having a difficult time believing what she had just barked at him. The wave of doubt that he had just inflicted upon her was racking her soul, it shook her to her core. Ingrid thought she was making the best decision for herself and for her people, and having not one, but three of her friends attempt at swaying her from the path she had chosen was unsettling. She never should have told Annette. By telling her, she may as well have written it on the walls of the cathedral, both would have accomplished the same thing.


	5. Chapter 5

Taking in the familiar scents of the flowers native to Gronder, she clenched her fists and scrunched her nose. Ingrid needed to push her emotions deep. She couldn’t risk allowing her recent conversations to distract her from combat. If she allowed such intrusive thoughts to enter her mind, it could spell disaster for her and any ally she may attempt to protect.

Keeping her eyes focused forward, Ingrid clutched the reigns in her fists tightly. Every word that Felix spoke to her, the emotion portrayed on both Annette and Sylvain’s faces refused to leave. In her mind, she made her decision to marry the nobleman, but her heart was another matter entirely. She knew that both Felix and Sylvain were correct in saying that she would be unhappy with the decision. Faking her way through a relationship for the sake of the people and her father, being depended upon to produce an heir to Galatea that would bear a Crest…it all felt wrong in her heart. But there was nothing she could do about it. With everything finalised, she would return to Galatea directly after this battle, and prepare herself to take on her new role as a wife and leader.

-

“Their forces are far larger in number than I originally anticipated,” Byleth spoke softly, her eyes fixed across the field upon the enemy. “We will need to keep our wits about us.”

It was difficult to hear anything over the sounds of final preparations being made. Mounts braying and calling out as they’re saddled and shoed, the sounds of hammers against weapons, and the heated smells of precious metals intermingling with the natural scents of the area were enough to give one a headache. The shouts of allies sharing what very well may be their last drink together was what tore it. Ingrid needed to move. As soon as the professor was through, she would find somewhere quiet to gather her thoughts.

The look on their former professor’s face wasn’t one of ease, and it was obvious to Ingrid just how bad their situation was by the firm crease in her brows. It was rare for Byleth to express any such emotion, and for it to be a look of disquiet was not comforting in the slightest.

“Understood, I shall take Felix, Sylvain and Ashe west to halt Claude and his advancing forces.” Dimitri responded with a curt nod in the professor’s direction, but quickly supplied a pained look toward Ingrid.

Thank goodness there was no time for His Highness to confront her before the fight, should he confront her at this point, she would be more likely to lash out. But that still wouldn’t stop the Professor from speaking with her.

As the rest of the army separated to take care of the few tasks that remained before battle, Ingrid remained on the hill, looking over the vast, serene field that would soon become soaked in the blood of both ally and enemy.

Setting her lance beside her, she sat on a flat rock, watching the sun slowly dip from its noon position. Once it reached an hour past, they would be engaged in combat. Every breath she took in was accompanied by the sweet, floral aromas of the field and the hill she was sat on. Such a beautiful place. Perhaps if she were lucky, she wouldn’t ever need to leave. She could stay…

As her tired mind lingered on the thought of death, a hand came to rest upon her shoulder and her breath hitched. Ingrid’s mind raced at who could possibly be interrupting her time of solace. Who hadn’t spoken to her yet? Ashe? Mercedes? His Highness?

“Isn’t it a lovely sight?” The professor’s restrained voice broke the silence, allowing a small rush of relief to wash over Ingrid. “The calm before the impending storm.”

“You could say that.” She replied, sliding over from the centre of the rock to the left to make room for the Professor. “If this is about what is being strung through the grapevine, I can assure you, it’s true. All of it.” Her eyes flickered over to Byleth, then back out over the flowers.

“I see. But that is none of my business. What is, however, is the well-being of my students — well, former students.” She leaned forward, her bright eyes fixing off in the distance. “Ingrid, for as long as I have known you, you’ve yet to act irrationally. You’re careful, concise, and are willing to put others' needs before your own without a second thought.”

“I’m sorry, I’m uncertain I’m following what you’re saying,” she replied weakly. “If you’re attempting to tell me that I’m making a mistake,”

“No. That isn’t it at all. You’ve had your friends tugging your arms at every turn in an attempt to steer you away from the decision you made. I’m here to tell you that no matter your decision at the end of this battle, you will have my unwavering support.”

Was this a trap? Some sort of trick? It had to be. With an incredulous look, she turned her full attention to Byleth, her jade eyes quivering. “Professor, you’re teasing me, aren’t you? If not, may I ask why? Why would you support me in this decision? Do you not feel the same as the others? That I’m throwing away my own ambitions for the sake of others?”

“I can assure you I’m not teasing. While I am concerned for you, I’m more concerned for you during the upcoming fight,” she responded. “I know that you were contemplating your own life just now. You may be good at hiding some things, but I have seen that look many times in the faces of former mercenary companions who owed too much.” Shifting her position, she rested a hand on Ingrid’s shoulder. “You’re exhausted and stressed. Do not allow that to cloud your judgement. You are far too strong to give in to death so willingly, and if you do, I can assure you that you would be leaving behind far more than you think.”

Holding her gaze, Ingrid felt her eyes begin to pool. “You’re right. It...was selfish to even entertain such a thought. Though it sounds appealing, it would be a coward’s way out,” she reasoned. “How you aren’t furious that I would be thinking of such a grim fate for myself is perhaps worse than actually attempting it.”

“Hah. I suppose it’s just as well. I have been told by several people that I’m difficult to read. But I will tell you this: if you should fall in battle, there is nothing I wouldn’t do to try and save your life.” Supplying a subtle smile, she moved to stand. “I’ll be watching you, Ingrid. If you so much as hint at the action of sacrificing your life, I will not hesitate to have you warped to my side, understood?”

Leaving no room to argue, she left her sitting on the stone by herself. Such a threat as warping wouldn’t seem like much to some, but to Ingrid, she despised it. The magic always seemed to disorient her and cause her to feel ill after it occurred. If she could avoid that by simply avoiding any risky situations that might be misconstrued as recklessly endangering herself, then she most definitely would.

-

“Ingrid, are you prepared? You seem a bit unsteady.” Dimitri’s gruff tone broke through the din, bringing Ingrid back from the deep recesses of her mind.

“Yes, I am, Your Highness. Please, you needn’t focus your worry on me,” she responded coolly. Since her conversation with the Professor, she found herself in a calmer state. She was able to see things more clearly.

“I understand. As one of my oldest and dearest friends, I ask that you stay safe. Should you fall…”

“I can assure you, that is not my intention.” Her response was cut short as the signal to ascend the field came. Cocking her head to the left, she watched as Dimitri and his small battalion stormed the field, leaving Ingrid, Mercedes, and Annette to file in last with the Professor moving to confront Edelgard herself.

No sooner did she take to the skies than were the arrows already firing with intent to either kill or ground her. Several let loose, whizzing past her ear, the fletchings humming by to brush against her loose tresses, forcing her to correct her flight path several times.

With her eyes fixed on the hill in the centre, she urged her steed downward to try and seize it before the enemy could, only to find herself a few seconds too late. Bernadetta herself sat at the ballista, preparing a shot for who she could only assume would be herself.

As she neared her, the weapon released, managing to scrape the underside of her mount, causing the leather strap that held her saddle in place to come loose. In a brief moment of panic, when she neared the ground, Ingrid leapt from it, rolling onto the hard wood on the hill— right into Bernadetta’s shins.

“Ah! Wh-what are you doing?! You aren’t supposed to do that! Oh no! Just take me already, Sweet Death! I have accepted your presence and welcome your embrace!” Bernadetta shouted while ducking behind the ballista. 

What was she muttering about? Her ears were ringing horribly after hitting the ground, causing Bernadetta’s words to sound distant.

Pressing her hand against her head, she moved to stand, using the side of the launcher to stabilise herself. The pounding wouldn’t leave, and it didn’t take long before she removed her shaking hand from her hair, finding the palm of her glove soaked through with crimson.

Ingrid could feel the cool breeze lick against the gash in her head. While she didn’t know how deep it was, she knew that she needed to be careful.

Returning her glove to its position in an attempt to staunch the blood, she squinted her eyes, focusing on the cowering Bernadetta.

“Give me two good reasons not to end you here and now.” Ingrid grunted, taking a few unsteady steps forward toward her enemy.

“Please, don’t hurt me! I-I didn’t think you’d actually reach me!” She squeaked. “I swear, if you spare me I won’t attack anyone! I’ll just hide right here!”

While her proposal was tempting, Ingrid released her head and carefully crouched to pick up her lance, nearly losing her balance.

“Bernadetta,” she began shakily. The thought of ending this woman’s life was different than doing so to any other nameless soldier. They attended the academy together. Hell, she busted down her door in order to get her to train. “If I do, you need to swear you’ll pull back. The thought of seeing you lifeless on the ground…” 

“Yes! I will! I’ll pull back! Oh, thank you, Ingrid!” Bernadetta exclaimed with tears in her eyes, not even hesitating to throw her arms around the knight.

“Okay, okay. Pull back and— Bernadetta! Move!”

Ingrid’s voice became lost as she pushed the sniper off of her body, leaping off the wooden platform herself as the large balls of flame neared them, crashing into the planks below, igniting the hill that she had only just been standing on.

Rolling into the nearby bushes to protect herself, she slowly picked herself up, coughing at the combination of the dirt and smoke. Rubbing her eyes out to try and gain a visual of Bernadetta, she couldn’t find her in the bushes. Instead, she looked up at the scorching platform, a filthy, gauntleted hand moving to cover her mouth. Laying in the centre, was Bernadetta: a human torch.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay! Had to get my appendix removed and it put me out for a bit! I know it’s short, but I hope you like it!

“Bernadetta!”

The blood curdling shriek that escaped from Ingrid at the sight of the burning woman didn’t sound like it came from her. Rather someone more distant.

As the flames licked at her enemy’s boots and up the flammable cloth of her uniform, she took a few steps forward, her internal conflict of whether she should attempt to rescue her began to eat at her conscience.

In her own mind, she saw Bernadetta as nothing more than a casualty. She had to. But Ingrid had a pulling in her heart. She knew that the Professor would try and rescue her. Grant her mercy. She couldn’t be a monster. She had history with Bern. That was it. It was final. She would try to retrieve her from off of the burning hill.

With a few deep breaths of somewhat clean air, she moved into action. The heat was exhausting her with every step, the smoke entering her lungs bringing on several coughing fits. Her eyes began to sting from the combination of the soot and dryness of the fire.

Just as she was nearing the sniper’s form, she felt some sort of harsh force come over her chest, the weight lasted a few seconds before a green magic took over completely, her mind becoming fogged for a brief moment.  
-

Mercedes. That insufferable woman warped her!

The next thing Ingrid knew, she was on her hands and knees in front of her friend, coughing harshly.

“M-Mercedes! Why did you do that? I nearly had her!” She hissed, pounding a fist into the dirt.

With the tightness in her chest, she tried to take in several deep breaths in an attempt to say more, but found herself incapable through the severity of her choking.

“You promised you wouldn’t do anything reckless! By the Goddess, Annie and I saw you willingly run onto that burning platform!” She shouted. “Your flagrant disregard for your own life is becoming ridiculous! I understand that you’re likely hoping to die here, but I won’t allow it!” Merci’s eyes narrowed, her brows knitted together..

“She was going to retreat! I could have saved her!” Attempting to stand, she felt a hand press against her back, keeping her down on the ground. “Let me up!”

“Ingrid! It’s done! That hill is now nothing more than a pile of burnt wood!” Her voice was strong at first, then weakened. “If I heal you now and send you out to help Annie, promise me you won’t do anything like that again?” Crossing her arms harshly, she withheld her magic until Ingrid agreed.

With a puzzled expression, she simply shifted her gaze upward to Mercedes. She wasn’t certain how to respond.

“Listen,” Mercedes began, raising her voice slightly in order to be heard over the raging battle. “When the flames struck the platform, from where I was standing, the initial shock from the hit likely killed her instantly. There was nothing you could have done.” She added with a touch of melancholy.

Having removed her hand from Ingrid’s back, she moved to stand, stabilising herself by gripping Mercedes’s shoulder.

While she was reassured that there was nothing she could have done, she couldn’t help but wonder if the outcome would have been different had she attempted to pull Bernadetta with her.

The guilt she would feel regarding this loss would haunt her, but for now, she needed to return to the fray. Fighting was all that Ingrid could do now to attempt at burying such emotions.

With a look of determination, she nodded to her friend.

“Warp me to Annette, Mercedes. If she needs help, I’ll supply it.”

“Of course. Be careful!”

With a soft smile and gentle kiss to Ingrid’s cheek, Mercedes raised her staff and allowed the magic to envelope her. Closing her eyes tightly to avoid feeling ill from the warp, she opened them again finding herself amidst a fight between Annette and Hilda.  
-

Getting to her feet, Ingrid watched on as the two axe wielders attacked one another. She was eager to help, until she realised she didn’t have her lance. It was still at the centre platform.

With a panicked expression, she began to search the ground for any weapon she could possibly use. While lances were her weapon of choice, she was capable with other weapons as well— even her fists if she needed to.

Searching near all the fallen enemies she could find, she gave a grunt in frustration. All of the fallen in this area were mages. None of them had physical weapons.

“Shit!” Ingrid cussed with a look of fear in her eyes as Annette took a hard hit to the leg, knocking her off of her feet. “Annette!”

As she cried out to Annette, Hilda caught sight of her and flashed a brief smile.

“What? No Lúin? Pity. Looks like I’ll have the upper hand now, Ingrid! Who’s calling who lazy now?” She shouted with a menacingly sweet laugh. “I hope you’re ready to feel some pain!”

As Hilda began her run toward her, Ingrid could feel the sweat beading up on her forehead. She needed to think, and do it quickly. With her gaze shifting to Annette’s bloodied unconscious form, she had an idea.

The closer Hilda got, the more panicked Ingrid became. Positioning herself in a brawling stance, she took in several deep breaths, waiting until she was in range.

Once Hilda was about ten yards away, she began barreling toward her. While she had an axe, Ingrid had slightly better speed, making their near collision happen quickly and efficiently. Rearing back an arm to punch her jaw, Ingrid faked the attack, avoiding Hilda and leaving her confused arse in the dust.

As she ran to Annette’s side, she knew she didn’t have much time before Hilda returned in full force— likely upset that she was forced to run so much.

Without stopping properly from her run, she slid on her knees beside Annette, removing her gauntlet and lifting her wrist to find a pulse. While she was able to find her pulse, she found it weak and thready.

“Goddess, don’t take her! She pleaded through a choked breath. 

“In...grid?” She croaked. Her usual lilting voice was gone, trapped beneath the excruciating pain.

“Annette? Stay with me, please!” As she begged her, she shifted her dress and carefully lifted her to see where the relic slashed her.

Bringing a bloodied hand upward to her mouth to cover it, she took in a haggard breath, trying not to cry for her sake.

Where her dress used to be clean, it was soaked in crimson, the blood still gushing from the site, the gash far too deep for any healing to be done. Even if it were shallow enough to be healed, damage sustained from relics was far more dangerous than a traditional weapon.

“It...feels cold.” She gasped, her hand moving to Ingrid’s now tear stained cheek. “I want...you to be...happy. If marrying...a st...rang..er will do so...th-then do it…”

“Annette.” She gasped softly at the cold hand against her hot cheek, holding it there with a few soft sniffles. “You can’t go! Mercedes needs you! Felix needs you! I need you—

“Ingrid...it’s okay...Glenn said so…”  
—

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed these first three chapters, leave a kudos or a comment! More will be uploaded soon!


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